


Feel your innocence slipping away, don't believe it's coming back soon

by MediumAquaMarinePresence



Series: In this house we don't fridge women [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reference to Torture, reference to addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 07:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediumAquaMarinePresence/pseuds/MediumAquaMarinePresence
Summary: The story of how Eudora Patch does not in fact die in a seedy motel.





	Feel your innocence slipping away, don't believe it's coming back soon

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was heavily inspired by "Raise Tiny Daggers up to Heaven" by queenbaskerville, please please check it out it's awesome! <3 
> 
> A few notes about my personal thoughts on this particular HC:  
\- I believe a lot of what the Hargreeves children believe about addiction was likely fed to them by Reginald, if he was telling Klaus these things he was certainly telling the others.  
\- I also think while the Hargreeves kids don't really comfort each other, there are quite a few examples of them trying to cheer each other up. I feel like they don't really address issues so much as try and make the hurt person smile.  
\- We don't talk enough about the fact Diego? Killed his mother?? Like??? He killed her straight up???  
\- Klaus likes the music I like bc I am uncreative.

Diego was a difficult man to care about, and the only relief Eudora really had was that he knew it. Emotional intimacy wasn’t his forte, despite his best efforts. Diego saw things in black and white, and actions spoke louder than any words ever could. Hearing his mother had died and his brother was missing, she knew her comforting words would do nothing. It was heartbreaking Diego had come to her, but been too intent on isolating himself from people who cared about him to even knock on her door. Walking away, leaving him to go to work felt as wrong as leaving him the first time, a rational part of her brain knew it was the right choice but her heart still cried for him, to this day it bled for him and it only got worse because of how helpless she was. 

Eudora was helpless, like being at sea without a boat, awash in her and Diego’s emotions but unable to even help address them. Diego never let her. Diego never accepted her comforting words, if he was upset he wouldn’t even let her touch him, he would pull away and only further isolate himself. As much as she wanted to make things better for him, she knew, just _ knew_, any amount of comfort she could ever hope to give him would be discarded, nothing she ever did made it through that tough as nails exterior. All day she stewed, wondering what she could possibly do to break through his grief, when the van was discovered and an idea was born. She had a lead, and resources, she could get his brother back. 

Locating the motel had been easy, if she had to guess she would’ve picked that particular seedy location, it was finding the missing brother was hard. Rather than rush in she did call Diego, did try and leave a message that his brother was found, he could stop looking and come help. She knew Diego, she knew if someone close to him was in danger or missing he would commit to finding them, he’d run himself ragged trying to do something, so it was entirely possible he’d never get her message, or get it far too late. Waiting for that could put his brother’s life at risk, she’d spent the past few days chasing a trail of bodies these people had left in their wake, she couldn’t let his brother be one of those. 

Eudora almost walked by the room he was being held in, if she hadn’t heard his head banging on the table she might not have even found him. Upon entering the motel room and seeing the state he was in, roughed up but entirely alive, she knew her utmost priority was getting him out of there. “Are you Diego’s brother?” she asked, relieved at his frantic nodding as she cut his bonds. Brother acquired, she was just about to yank him out of there when the door to the bathroom opened and she knew what she had to do. 

The woman showed herself first, and Eudora drew and fired, hitting or grazing her on a limb. At the woman’s scream of pain the two armed assailants retreated back to the bathroom, Eudora cast her gaze around for her charge. Diego’s brother was already halfway into worming his body into the vent, a bold move for someone dressed only in a towel. “Hargreeves!” she hissed, edging closer to kick his foot, and to his credit the man did withdraw himself and return to her side, this time clutching a leather briefcase to his chest. Too concerned to really take stock of that Eudora grabbed his arm and hoisted him first to his feet then out the door. 

By the time they made it to the end of the hall the man of the pair had gotten out of the room to fire at them. Keeping Diego’s brother moving in front of her Eudora returned fire, but she knew they were too far ahead, it would be easier to try and head them off than shoot from the motel room. “Keep running,” she growled at Diego’s brother, who seemed happy to do what he was told and kept pace as they raced down the stairs and to her car. She trusted him enough to get into the car by himself as she threw herself into the front seat and slammed on the gas. 

“Holy shit,” she heard from the back seat, a half laugh, half sob bubbling up out of the strange man’s throat. “Wow, thank you!” Eudora glanced in the rear view mirror, she saw him grinning at her and still clutching that leather briefcase to his chest. She doubted he’d been kidnapped with it, but he seemed to be bonding to it so she didn’t mention it. No time for that, she had to keep them moving. Choosing a direction at random she took off, kept her headlights off so if anyone was tailing they’d be easier to lose. After a few tense moments of frantic checking in the mirrors, she eventually eased off the gas and switched the headlights on. From the back seat she could hear Diego’s brother settling back into his seat, and she glanced in the mirror at him. 

As far as sibling resemblance went, these two didn’t have much, though it was to be expected with adopted siblings she reminded herself. Where Diego had narrow, angry eyes, this one had big, bright eyes that looked around in wonder at everything around him. “Hmm?” he cocked his head, looking to his right with such conviction Eudora almost thought she’d see someone sitting next to him. “Oh, right. Don’t wanna escape certain death only to die in a car wreck,” he said, somewhat sheepishly as he buckled his seatbelt. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Eudora mentioned, and that got his attention, his head jerked up and he stared at her. “Hargreeves. Do you need to go to the hospital?” That got a chuckle out of him. 

“As much as I like hospitals, I, uh, don’t think it’s necessary,” he assured her, and she looked back at the road long enough to miss him shunting his body forward between the two front seats to address her. “So,” he said, abruptly, and she nearly crashed in surprise, “where are we going?” Eudora toyed with the idea of taking him to Diego’s, but she didn’t know if he would be there. There was also the Academy, where he’d been kidnapped from, presumably, but that didn’t seem like a good option either as whoever was after him knew how to get there. 

So she decided to bring Diego’s weird brother to her house. 

“My place,” she answered. “Lean back.” Diego’s brother complied, settling himself back and closing his eyes as he reclined. 

“How do you know Diego?” he asked. 

“We were at the police academy together,” she explained, not knowing how forthcoming Diego had been about their relationship to his family. The smirk he shot her told her he suspected something more, but then his head was lolling to the side as if someone had called his name. “Hmm? Yeah.” This time Eudora didn’t interrupt him, whatever was going on seemed normal for him, though if he behaved any more irrationally she just might take him to a doctor. 

They got to her house without incident, and he was surprisingly chipper as he bounced out of her car. He chatted, sort of, and Eudora wasn’t quite sure if it was to her or the world, but he did lean a little on her up her front steps. The same steps, Eudora thought, as she unlocked the front door, on which Diego had told her of his missing brother and dead mother. Diego’s brother waltzed into the house and immediately put his hands on all her stuff: running his hands over the spines of her books, picking up the trinkets she had on end tables, stroking the exposed brick of her living room wall. 

“Fancy,” he murmured, grinning at her. “It’s a really nice place you have here.” 

“Sit down, let me have a look at you,” she told him, and he did so, lazily, as if nothing was of great urgency as he ambled over to the couch. Eudora hesitated, before going to her phone before she got her first aid kit. She had to let Diego know his brother was all right. Al answered this time as well. “Hi, I need you to tell Diego I found his brother,” she said. “I need you to let him know he’s at my place. Can you do that?” Al mumbled something, she couldn’t quite concentrate because Diego’s brother was having a very animated one-sided conversation with thin air. “Tell him,” she reiterated. 

“Yeah yeah,” the man grumbled. “You know I’m not his secretary.” 

“Great, I’ll talk to you next emergency,” she said, and hung up. Out of the bathroom she retrieved her first aid kit, she didn’t think she’d need more than some bandages and something to clean him off with, before she sat next to him on her couch and started her examination. 

“I’m Klaus,” he blurted as soon as her fingers made contact with his temple, so in sync with her motions she flinched back on instinct, thinking she’d hurt him. 

“Detective Patch,” she answered. “Hold still while I do this, ok?” Klaus nodded, and it seemed genuine, almost childlike, as he tried not to fidget. Overall he had taken a beating, bruising was rising up on his pale skin, and the injuries that broke the skin were centered around sensitive areas, clear signs of torture. Thankfully nothing was actively bleeding, most of the blood caked on and dried up, he didn’t need much more than a rinse and bandage, what she’d initially assumed. When asked, Klaus had trouble pointing to his wounds, he gestured vaguely or shrugged, which was odd and slightly concerning. He continued reacting as if he was having a conversation with someone who wasn’t actually there, he would mutter or laugh or pull faces. It kept him distracted while she worked, which was a plus, and he seemed to think it was normal enough, but it was unnerving to say the least. 

“Can I take a shower?” he asked, when she was only partway through tending his wounds. 

“Diego’s coming,” she explained, “let me clean these out, and after he comes over and sees you’re ok you can take a shower.” Klaus blinked. 

“Diego’s coming?” he repeated. “I thought you left a message. He probably won’t get it for a while, you know-” he coughed, “-if there were maybe a possibility of maybe getting a glass of water?” It took Eudora a moment to follow the hairpin turn he took absolutely seamlessly. 

“Of course, are you hungry? I can get you something to eat.” Of course he was hungry, of course he needed water, he’d been taped to a chair in a motel room for at least a day. “Just sit right there, I’ll get you something. Don’t move.” Klaus laughed and smiled at he. 

“Sure thing, scout’s honor,” he said. Truthfully Eudora was happy to have a little space to think, try and piece herself together after what she’d seen. 

Diego had never spoken about his family at length. All she had been able to glean of his siblings came from the media coverage, which at this point was sparse, save for his sisters. She knew, logically, there were seven of them: the two sisters she knew about, Vanya because of her book and Allison because of her movies, but the brothers she had trouble with. There were five boys, but at least two of them had come to some sort of dismal end, one was dead and one was missing though she couldn’t quite conceptualize which ones. The only family member he’d told her about was his mother, sweet stories about drying his tears and stroking his hair and helping him work on his stutter. 

That woman was dead, the woman who had tended to Diego’s scraped knees and helped him tie his ties and taught him how to lace his shoes, she was dead and now Eudora had one of her sons bleeding on her couch and the other on his way over, god willing. First things first, then, she thought. She got Klaus a glass of water and looked around for something easy to get him to eat, she ended up grabbing a granola bar and heading back out to the living room. Diego’s brother’s hands shook as he took the water from her, but he grinned. 

“Water, fuck yeah,” he giggled before taking a gulp. “Oh that’s good, thanks!” 

“I can make you something bigger later, just see how that treats you,” she told him as he unwrapped the granola bar. 

“Do you have any music?” he asked, eyes bright. “What do you like to listen to?” Eudora fished her phone out of her pocket, unlocked it and handed it over. 

“Pick out anything you like, I’ve got Spotify,” she told him, and he gleefully went about doing just that. His little full body wiggle of excitement, the intent gaze he had just for music, was undeniably cute, despite the black eye coming up his eyes seemed bright, and big, and his curls were endearing. He probably got away with a lot, being that cute and sociable. 

“Lemonade!” he gasped, eagerly holding out her phone. “Please?” Eudora stood and moved over to the coffee table, setting her phone up on speakers and starting the full album. “Beyonce understands me,” Klaus sighed. As they sat there, listening to the music, he began to shiver, and didn’t seem like he was going to do anything about it despite the fact there was a blanket folded over the back of the couch right behind him. Eudora did it for him, she unfurled it and wrapped it around his shoulders, and almost reverently his hands came up to clutch it around himself, pulling it up and over the bruising on his neck. “Thanks,” he told her, voice hoarse. Obviously he was hungry, there was no way he’d eaten in at least 24 hours, but he poked at the granola bar, almost savoring it as if he didn’t expect more to be on the way. “You think?” he blurted, giving a terrific side eye to his right. It would have been withering, if there was anyone there. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked. Klaus’s big eyes turned on her and his left hand came up so he could bite at his thumbnail. 

“Diego’s coming?” he asked dubiously. 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to tell him what happened, when he gets here?” he asked, sounding small and uncertain. 

“Diego’s going to want to know what happened to you,” she replied cautiously “Is there something you don’t want him to know?” 

“You tell him, ok? It’ll be easier if you- if you tell him what happened,” he tried, eyes darting around. “Ok? So when he asks or if it comes up you can tell him?” Eudora didn’t know what Klaus was so worried about, but if Diego’s emotional capability was anything to go by, there probably wasn’t a lot of tenderness to go around in that family. Diego cared about things, but he didn’t do it delicately. 

“I’ll tell him,” she said, wondering how much of her complicated relationship with his brother he’s guessed at, while he seemed distracted and ditzy there was intelligence lurking under the surface. She got the feeling that despite how little he seemed to be paying attention, he was most certainly listening. Things were quiet for a moment, Klaus nibbling his granola bar and sipping his water, cocking his head to the music on occasion, and Eudora felt weird watching him but someone had to keep an eye on him. As he started chatting to thin air again, Eudora wracked her brain for something to talk about to pull him back towards reality. 

“What sort of music do you like to listen to?” she asked, as gently as she could, and Klaus turned back to her with excitement. 

“Electra Heart is the height of music,” he declared. “Marina, she _ gets it_, you know?” 

“I’ve never heard it.” Klaus frowned, a little deflated. “We could play it?” 

“Maybe later,” he offered, folding even more in on himself. “Um, what, uh, what music do you like?” Eudora felt indulged by the conversation, like Klaus wasn’t getting much out of it, so she switched tactics. 

“Do you have any embarrassing stories about Diego growing up?” she asked, and Klaus regarded her with surprise. 

“You haven’t read her memoir,” he said, almost slyly. “Did he ask you not to?” “Her” must be his sister Vanya, it was the only memoir she was aware of, and that would make “he” Diego, and yes, Klaus hit the nail on the head with that guess. Diego could do it too, take the barest minimum of information and extrapolate huge swathes of truth from it, but it didn’t make it any less disconcerting. 

“Yeah,” she admitted. 

“I love talking to people like that,” Klaus sighed, grinning at her as he snuggled into the couch. 

“People like what?” 

“People who haven’t read it,” he explained. “I try not to talk to people who’ve read it, it makes things weird. Rehab was weird after it, but if you only talk to homeless people or junkies then you can usually avoid it.” When it had come out Diego had rushed to Eudora, he’d pleaded with her, nearly in tears, not to ever read it. At first Eudora had thought he really didn’t have the right to tell her what to do, but as they talked she began to understand the massive invasion of privacy the book was. If maybe just from her, he wanted to keep parts of himself private. Later, much later, she learned an ex of his had reached out and referenced some of the more painful portions of the book, and he’d been overcome with anxiety that the same scene would play out with Eudora, but the details of what was in the book or what the ex had said still evaded her. Even though they weren’t a thing, though reconciliation was looking like more of an option, she had shown her loyalty by never picking the book up. Diego was sensitive about things, she didn’t expect the book to have had such an effect on everyone else in the family. “Not that I really begrudge her her book,” Klaus was saying, jarring her from the memories. “I mean, speak your truth, more power to you, all that. Knock the old man down a peg, get it off your chest, blah blah blah. And sure, I definitely deserved a lot of the bits in there, but.” He waved a hand, and for the first time Eudora noticed his tattoos. “You know,” he finished quietly, coughing and taking a sip of water. “Yeah yeah,” he almost growled, the sudden change to annoyance taking Eudora by surprise, “we all know _ you _ hated it, but you don’t speak for the both of us. Go tell a therapist.” 

Back in the police academy, Diego had once claimed “sudden” was a personality trait, and no amount of arguing would steer him from his course: a person could be described as sudden. They’d all laughed, Eudora included, and even teased him about it, but now she’d met his brother she felt she owed him an apology. Klaus Hargreeves was a sudden person. Thoughts seemed to come out of his mouth like they came into his brain, as if he were struck by lightning, his mood flipped out of nowhere, he laughed and frowned and grumbled in response to thin air. Maybe she’d mention to Diego he was right. Maybe that was the sort of story Klaus might like. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened, before Diego gets here?” 

“Not really.” 

“Ok. He’s worried about you. He’s looking for you.” Klaus looked away, expression something close to shame. 

“He isn’t,” he whispered, “he really isn’t.” Eudora didn’t know what to say to that, or to how sincerely Klaus believed it, so she gently reached out and held his hand, under the corner of the blanket draped around his bony shoulders, and for a time they were peaceful, listening to music and resting. 

Diego, predictably, let himself into her house. One moment she and Klaus were curled up on the couch together, the next Diego was barging in and stomping over to them. He even had his mouth open, ready for a fight, before he laid eyes on his brother. 

For once, he didn’t say anything, he finished his approach more cautiously while Klaus watched him with those big doe eyes. When he reached out and grabbed Klaus’s face it wasn’t harsh, but it was firm, turning him this way and that, tilting his head back to catch a glimpse of the bruising on his neck. Wordlessly Diego touched the edge of the blanket and made significant eye contact with his brother, who didn’t move, but Diego must’ve seen some signal because he slowly peeled away the blanket to take in the rest of the injuries. Eudora watched his face as he cataloged it all, watched the concern wrinkle his forehead and the worry press itself to his eyes, making him look older and more tired than he really was, but once he’d seen what there was to see he folded the blanket once more over Klaus and slumped into the armchair opposite the couch, shaking his head. 

“I’d ask what happened,” he started, sounding mildly frustrated, “but something tells me I don’t even want to know.” Eudora grimaced. 

“Diego,” she began, while Klaus got a little smirk on his face, “you said he was missing, this morning. But he’s all right, ok?” 

“I said what?” The genuine confusion on his face nearly stopped her heart. “I said Five was missing, not- not him.” 

“Five’s missing?” Klaus asked, voice a little airy. “Wow, deja vu. Did you find him?” 

“Luther and I tracked him down,” Diego answered, then turned to Eudora. “Look, Eudora, I’m sorry you got mixed up in all this. I didn’t know when I told you all that you’d go looking. We found him on our own, we didn’t need- and you were in danger, out there-” 

“Tell him,” Klaus whispered to her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. 

“Diego, the people who broke into your house kidnapped your brother,” she hurried to explain, before Diego could go further down this road. 

“What?” Diego frowned, looking between Eudora and Klaus. 

“They took him to that motel, where I found him,” she finished, not knowing how many details Klaus trusted her to give out. Loudly, Klaus shushed the invisible someone, or someones, and Diego didn’t seem to take much notice. 

“What did they do?” he growled. “What the fuck did they do to you?” 

“Spot of torture,” Klaus told him flippantly, “all pretty surface level.” Diego narrowed his eyes. 

“What did they want?” 

“Information on Five.” Klaus pursed his lips, taking in Diego’s serious face. “I didn’t tell them anything, honest! And Detective Patch gave me some bandaids, she says I can take a shower. I’m really fine.” 

“And what the fuck is that?” Diego asked, jerking a nod at the leather briefcase Klaus clutched protectively. 

“It’s mine,” he shot defensively, curling up on himself. Diego shook his head, but didn’t press. “Fuck off,” Klaus muttered darkly, glaring at another space this time, and Diego didn’t even acknowledge it. So perhaps Klaus’s behavior was normal, and he wouldn’t have to be checked for brain damage. 

“So they took you when they shot up the house?” Diego asked. Klaus nodded. “Jesus. Well,” he said, sounding almost amused, almost resigned, as he stood and stretched, “you’ve had worse, you’ll pull through.” He gave Klaus a firm pat on the shoulder on his way to the kitchen. In her own personal opinion, it was a bit cold, but Klaus beamed at his brother as if he’d been given the highest compliment, so perhaps Hargreeves family dynamics weren’t something she could understand. 

Eudora made the decision to follow Diego to her kitchen, because he as well might need comforting. She found him at the stove, putting on a kettle of water to boil, moving around her kitchen as if he still lived there while he got out a box of tea bags and a mug. 

“How are you holding up?” she asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. Diego looked over at her. 

“I’ve got to tell him about Mom,” he told her quietly. “I’ve got to tell him before I take him back, he’ll ask about it.” Eudora felt slightly ill at the scope of what Diego had ahead of him, without even taking into consideration how little Diego could talk about emotions. “He’ll be fine,” Diego told her, cutting through her thoughts. “He’s tough, ok, and he’s not… it’ll be fine.” 

“So, tea? You’re going to ease the way with tea?” 

“What?” Diego looked down at the mug he was holding as if seeing it for the first time. “The tea is because he’s had a rough day, he’s probably feeling sick.” 

“He’s been through a lot, Diego, emotionally speaking,” Eudora tried, because she wasn’t sure how this was all going to go, she’d spent the night with Klaus and he was strange and fragile and could use a little more care than she was quite sure Diego could give. 

Diego didn’t hear the warning, he just stared down at the kettle, waiting for it to boil, and let her rub her hand up and down his bicep, trying to be comforting. With how his shoulders relaxed, how the worry and focus in his face eased, she thought perhaps she was making an impact. Once he had the tea prepared they both returned to the living room, Diego handing Klaus the tea before taking his seat in the armchair once more. “Just like old times,” Klaus laughed, and though it sounded harsh the corner of Diego’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. 

“You’ve got a lot less blood on you than old times,” he pointed out, leaning back in his armchair. 

“Well Detective Patch did a good job, what can I say,” Klaus replied with a vague gesture. 

“I have something to tell you, Klaus,” Diego started, after his brother had had a moment to settle in with his tea and have some. 

“Go on.” 

“It’s about Mom.” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Mom’s… Mom’s dead, Klaus,” Diego said, voice breaking as he looked away. Klaus blinked, mouth popping open in shock. No one said anything for a long while, Klaus was sort of unfocused, staring at nothing. 

“That’s… profound,” he half-whispered at last, shaking his head as if in shock. “Really, that brings up so many questions about the nature of humanity and-” As if realizing what was going on Klaus snapped to attention, looking at Diego with wide eyes. “Oh Diego, I’m so sorry,” and he sounded like he meant it. Diego swallowed, almost audibly, but looked up to meet Klaus’s gaze. “Hey, wait a minute, I thought we were winning that vote! Even if Five came back and voted, it would’ve been a tie, unless-” he gasped, “unless you really didn’t count Vanya’s vote. You didn’t, did you?” As far as Eudora was concerned Klaus was babbling absolute nonsense, induced by trauma and shock and probably the few loose screws in his head, but Diego didn’t seem to think so. 

“Klaus,” he told his brother firmly, “it was the armed intruders. They- they did it.” Klaus’s eyes narrowed and he leaned back into the couch cushions. 

“Why are you lying about that?” 

“I’m not lying about anything,” Diego shot, and his defensiveness was telling as Klaus leaned forward. 

“Oh not lying about anything?” Klaus shot, heat inching into his voice. “So it’s totally ok that your “just friend” Detective Patch has tinder and bumble on her phone?” Eudora gaped at him while Diego’s face went through a whole Shakespearean drama’s worth of emotions, shock to anger to exasperation. 

“You have _ what _ on your phone?” he demanded hotly, and Klaus gave a little giggle, slightly malicious. 

“I know when you’re lying, Diego,” he said seriously. “Keep that in mind. I don’t like it.” 

“I’m not lying.” 

“Uh-huh.” Klaus looked down into his tea for a long moment, before raising his eyes to his brother again. “We’ll talk about it later, ok?” 

“Can we back up?” Eudora asked. “You all- what vote?” Diego licked his lips, looking monumentally uncomfortable, and Klaus shrank into himself, having the decency to look a little sheepish. 

“Sorry,” he told his brother. 

“You just gotta open your damn mouth, don’t you,” Diego grumbled. 

“You just told me Mom died! Forgive me for whatever bullshit I spit out!” Klaus cried, almost throwing up his hands before he remembered his tea. “Besides, how am I supposed to know how much you’ve told your _ friend_, mmm?” 

“I haven’t told her anything,” Diego spat, running a hand through his hair, “so if you could keep your mouth _ shut_, I would appreciate it.” Klaus sipped his tea, eyes flitting about, landing with the same level of intense purpose on Diego, Eudora, and thin air. 

“Is Five ok?” Klaus asked eventually, and for the first time this evening Eudora realized Five was a name. Not just a name, Five was their missing brother. 

“He’ll live,” Diego sighed, scrubbing at his face. “Found him smashed out of his gourd in the public library.” Klaus winced. 

“That poor pink little liver,” he sighed. “I guess this makes him the second youngest Hargreeves alcoholic.” 

“Or oldest, depending,” Diego replied easily. “Actually,” he said slowly, a small smile turning his lips, “that makes you-”an accusatory jab at Klaus- “the second craziest Hargreeves.” Eudora wanted to throw something at Diego, but Klaus laughed in delight. 

“Do tell,” he urged, sipping his tea and leaning forward like he was about to receive some choice gossip. 

“Well, Five seems to think he’s a harbinger of the apocalypse,” Diego began, “but more importantly he has formed an intense emotional and possibly sexual bond to a mannequin.” Klaus collapsed into giggles, so fitful he nearly sloshed his tea over his lap. Diego grinned at him, giving a little chuckle himself. 

“Oh no!” Klaus moaned, still smiling, “I kissed that thing the other day! In his creepy van!” 

“Ha!” Diego sat back, shaking his head. “He’s gonna kill you.” 

“No!” Klaus wailed, setting his mug on the coffee table to retreat under his blanket. 

“Oh he definitely will,” Diego continued teasing, “you know, assassin and all that.” 

“He won’t!” 

“Oh yeah? Have you seen him since?” Klaus shook his head. “Bet that’s why he was drinking. Poor guy, his mannequin wife was unfaithful.” 

“I’ve destroyed him!” Klaus sighed dramatically, throwing an arm over his forehead and collapsing back. Diego let the laughter settle before he hopped to his feet and went to pull Klaus up as well. 

“Let’s get you back to the Academy,” he said, “I’ll give you a ride. We get going now I can make it back to that motel and catch those freaks.” 

“Detective Patch said I could shower,” Klaus blurted, eyes looking a little panicky as he tried to keep the briefcase against his chest and the blanket around his shoulders. “She- I want to shower, before going back. Before whatever happens.” Diego’s eyes narrowed in obvious suspicion, which Eudora guessed Klaus had earned over the years, but she also hoped he could see that maybe it wasn’t just being alone with a medicine cabinet, or sneaking out, maybe there was a little more to his desire to get clean before going back to where he’d been kidnapped. It was a hard thing to explain, she’d felt it at times herself, the need to be clean in the wake of trauma. 

Diego turned to Eudora with a sigh. “Can he shower before we go?” he asked. 

“Of course, let me get you a towel,” she said, moving to the hall closet and getting out a towel and washcloth. When she turned to hand them to Klaus he was already standing beside her, taking the towel when she jumped in surprise. Diego went ahead to the bathroom and threw open the medicine cabinet, pulling out what bottles of Ibuprofen and Aspirin she had and taking them with him when he stepped out. 

“Enjoy your shower,” he said, almost mockingly as Klaus hungrily eyed the bottles of pills in his arms. He opened his mouth, perhaps to try and manipulate his way into being handed one of those bottles, when Diego shut the bathroom door in his face. Eudora wanted to ask if all that was necessary, if he really had to clean out her medicine cabinet in front of him, but Diego knew his brother better than her. “Hope you don’t have any makeup in there,” Diego mentioned as they returned down the hall to the living room, “if you do it’s his now.” Eudora laughed as they flopped onto the couch together. 

“He’s welcome to it, if he thinks my concealer will match his skin tone,” she joked, and that got a smile out of Diego, as he turned to her. 

“I’m sorry about him,” he told her quietly, “he’s a bit of a mess. I mean, he’s a lot of a mess. But I like him, so… thanks, I guess, for looking out for him, when I really should have been.” Eudora’s heart swelled, and in that moment Diego was easy to love. At some point, she remembered, it had been easy, she had been assured when she opened herself to him, gave to him all the love she had, it would be treasured and reciprocated. 

He’d drifted away, though. His inability to communicate, to meet her halfway, to open up to her had driven a wedge between them. A part of her had hoped it would be a wake up call for him, he’d get therapy or something, but most of what had happened was denial, was a game of cat and mouse. 

“Diego, I know you don’t like talking about your family,” she started gently, “but I’m glad I could help. I’m glad I could meet your brother, help you take care of him a little bit.” Diego swallowed visibly, licking his lips. His pain was her pain, he’d lost his father, his mother, and two brothers all in the span of a few days, and while the brothers were recovered, it didn’t exactly stem the flow of grief. While she had so many questions, like what family vote Klaus referenced that resulted in their mother’s death, why they called their brother Five, why Klaus thought Diego was lying to him, those were things she couldn’t demand of him. 

On the couch between them their hands found each other, slowly at first, but then clutching at each other like how they would throw their arms around one another if there wasn’t so much between them, if they had less self control. Still it was nice, a reprieve from the world they would have to return to, a world where there wasn’t a them, where Diego had to take his recently tortured brother home, where Eudora had to write up a report to make some sort of sense out of all this, where people were tying to kill them and reality was slipping through their fingers, but in that moment they had just a sliver of comfort. 

“Does he usually take this long in the shower?” Eudora finally asked. Diego snorted. 

“Growing up we had timers for showers, five minutes, in and out,” he explained. “Once he got to be in charge of it I think he’d spend the rest of his life in a bubble bath.” Sitting up and stretching he finally got off the couch. “I’ll go oust him, before he becomes aquatic.” It was a good idea, no need to leave him in the shower any longer, but Eudora couldn’t quite separate herself so she followed him to the bathroom. Diego knocked first, called Klaus’s name, but let himself in rather quickly. 

There was no Klaus.

The sheer shock of that fact stopped Diego dead in his tracks, kept him standing with his eyes wide, staring at the floor where he thought Klaus might be. The shower wasn’t on, nor had it ever been on, the window and mirror weren’t fogged up. Quickly, Diego moved across the bathroom to the window, which was still closed, before he turned around and for the first time Eudora realized: Diego also loved someone who was difficult to love. Diego loved someone, and loving him felt like staring into the sun. Diego loved someone sharp, who became sharper the closer he was held. Diego knew what Eudora felt, loving him. 

Eudora stepped into the bathroom with him but he brushed past her, moving out of the bathroom and to the back door. She didn’t think it was possible Klaus could have made it out the back door without either of them noticing, and this was only confirmed when they found the door still locked. 

“Diego,” she started, stepping close but he turned from her, movements tight and angry. 

“Did you feed him?” he whispered. 

“I,” she swallowed, not knowing how to cross the gap between them, “I gave him a granola bar.” Diego let out a choked little noise. 

“It’ll have to do,” he sighed, shoulders sagging as he leaned forward, letting his forehead bump against the door. Cautiously Eudora drew up behind him, she set her hand on his shoulder and he flinched. Always he could steel himself against any attack but it was her gentle touches that he couldn’t let himself accept. 

“Diego,” she whispered, before he was turning from her, then louder, “Diego!” because she was terrified he was about to slam his way out of her house. “Diego, please,” she begged as he paused, still not facing her, but not leaving. “Don’t lock me out like this.” 

“I don’t- I d-don’t know how.” Eudora approached, laying both her hands on him, one on each of his shoulders, as she pressed her face to his back. 

“Talk to me, please,” she whispered back. “Tell me what you’re feeling. Don’t keep it bottled up.” 

“It’s always like this,” he ground out, sounding sad and frustrated. “It’s always like things are going well, things are going to change and be ok, and then he goes and does shit like this and I just. I don’t know how many more times I can do this dance. This, this catch and release, I can’t- I can’t keep giving in, but what else can I do?” Over the course of their relationship, from friendship to dating, she’d watched his attitude toward addiction evolve. When they’d first talked about it he’d been fairly mulish, a product of his conservative upbringing, or so she’d thought. At first he’d seemed almost personally offended by addicts, he’d used pejorative and demeaning language, and acted as if he knew best. Over time though he’d softened, he’d asked her for her own opinions, he’d asked her what caused addiction, why these people did what they did. Eventually he’d ceded even more ground, taking in her thoughts, even reading a bit of literature on the subject she’d sent him. It took a while but he did in the end come around to the idea that addiction was a result of trauma, but it took years to get there. 

She hadn’t known then there was a brother on the frontlines of all of that. Every argument they’d had, every debate, hadn’t been hypothetical. It made sense in a way, his absolutely visceral reaction to drugs and addiction, but he’d had work to do and it was quite possible Klaus had suffered through all of that learning process. She thought perhaps to make him talk she had to draw it out, had to talk to him, but all she had to do was hold him and press her lips to the back of his shoulders and he told her everything. 

“Every time I lose him I lose a part of me,” he whispered, voice sounding wet as he inhaled harshly. “I’m losing him and I’m losing myself and I don’t know how to stop it. Every time I see him it’s a little worse, he’s in a rougher spot, he cares less, it’s like watching a suicide play out over a decade.” When he stopped, breathing heavily, she took a risk and turned him to face her. While he wasn’t crying, he was close, and jerked his head away so their eyes wouldn’t meet. She reached out and cupped his cheek, and gradually he leaned into her touch and met her gaze. That was something she’d had to learn. Rather, it was something Diego had taught her about himself. He’d taught her if at first he didn’t react, to not give up. Try some more. Don’t abandon him. 

She led him back to the couch, and in a moment of vulnerability he let her. Just like before all she had to do was sit quietly and he began to speak again. “I don’t know how to save him,” he almost whimpered, biting his knuckle to stave off tears. “I- I can’t save him, he’s slipping between my fingers and it’s Ben all over again.” 

“Ben’s the one who died?” Diego nodded. 

“Yeah, when we were seventeen. He got shot, I was standing right there- we all were. If I had been faster, with my knife-” 

“No, baby no, don’t think like that,” Eudora pleaded, reaching up to cup his face once more. This time there was no hesitance in how he leaned into her touch. She felt a little guilty in that moment that she’d told him his vigilante work was only to prove what he’d done as a child was worthwhile. Diego did have a need to prove himself, a need to save people, but it was because the people he loved the most he couldn’t protect. Diego had to save the world because the world couldn’t save him. 

“Klaus hasn’t been the same since Ben died,” Diego whispered, eyes closed. “He was doing CPR on him, after he was shot, we had to pull him off so Mom could look at him, and he-” He swallowed hard. “He didn’t speak for two weeks. He was like a zombie, he- he couldn’t even like, focus his _ eyes _ on anything, he was so zoned out. And when he finally did talk to us, it’s like- it’s like not all of him came back. He was so close to Ben, the rest of us didn’t see how bad things really were, we were on the fence sort of, we didn’t call it abuse but Klaus did and Klaus was looking out for Ben. He wanted to get out of the house and he wanted to take Ben with him, he’d have run off at thirteen if not for Ben. And then to lose him before he could, it- it’s like he never recovered.” 

“And what about you?” Eudora asked, as gently as possible. “Did you recover?” Tears spilled down his cheeks, his lips trembling. “Oh Diego,” Eudora sighed, pulling him close against her, laying his head on her shoulder as sobs wracked his body. 

Long minutes passed before he calmed down. At last, though, he dried his eyes on his sleeves and sat back from her, letting her see his wet and blotchy face. “I’m so proud of you for opening up to me like this,” she told him, as honestly as she could. “Really. I think your family deserves to hear the things you told me too.” Diego groaned and shook his head, letting his hand fall down to hold hers. 

“I can’t,” he told her, and he sounded aggravated and helpless. “You- you met Klaus, what the fuck am I supposed to say to him? He’s so much better at- at talking than me, if he didn’t want to talk he’d squirm his way out.” Diego pulled in a long, deep breath. “And Ben is kind of a touchy subject. Klaus says he can see him, you know, like his power is seeing ghosts and he says he can see Ben but- but it doesn’t work when he’s fucked up and he’s fucked up all the time.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand- he can see the dead?” 

“Well yeah, you- I mean he did it right in front of you and you didn’t say anything, so I thought you knew,” Diego told her. “Did you- what, did you think he was like talking to himself or something?” 

“I just pulled him out of twenty-four hours of torture, I wasn’t going to say anything,” Eudora protested, but Diego smiled, just slightly. 

“I do feel bad, ok, just for the record,” he said, “I feel bad none of us noticed he was gone. But he- he’s always gone. He’s always there one second then-” he snapped his fingers- “bam! Out the back door, squeezing his skinny ass out a window, just. Gone.” 

“I know,” Eudora told him. “I know.” She wondered, as they curled up together on the couch, if he really understood that she knew. All those times she’d woken in the middle of the night to find Diego gone, a scribbled note her only explanation, how many times had she been having a normal evening only to have him come crashing into her life, bleeding all over, not saying a word about what had happened to him. 

Eudora couldn’t bring herself to try and explain to Diego that what Klaus did to him, he’d in turn repeated to her, and possibly all the relationships in his life. It wasn’t as if it was a chain reaction, that it started with Klaus and ended with Eudora, but Diego had more in common with his brother than he thought. Where it seemed Klaus could manipulate and weasel his way out of connection, he seemed able to act and put on a front, Diego had none of that. Diego was nothing but honest and straightforward, if he didn’t want to address something all he could do would be to clam up.

“Diego,” she sighed, looking into his eyes as their heads rested against the couch, faces only a few inches apart. “Don’t lock me out from this. I want to hear these things, even if you think I don’t.” 

“You can’t possibly want to hear this,” he told her, breath ghosting over her lips. “This shit, it’s…” 

“I know it’s a lot,” she hurried to say, “and I don’t want to minimize any of what you’ve gone through, all right? But you don’t have to shoulder it all by yourself. Even if it feels overwhelming, even if it’s a little bit, you can talk to me. You can share it.” 

“I can’t do that to you,” was his reply, voice sounding strained. 

“Trust me.” 

“I- I don’t know how.” The third time he’d said that today, she thought, the first being when he told her about his mother. From what she knew of his childhood and life, showing any visible emotion was frowned upon at best, impossible at worst. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone, I’m here to listen, please,” she almost heard herself begging, and wondered what he would think of that. “Meet me halfway. You’re so honest, Diego, just be honest about what’s going on with you.” He was crying again, she could tell by the shaky intake of breath, by the way she could almost feel his lips tremble as he tried to form words. 

“Ok,” he sighed at last, “ok.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm considering expanding on this particular piece with a little epilogue about Eudora and Diego's reconciliation, but that's not really firm. I also am considering on expanding on both the references to Diego's reaction to Vanya's book as well as Ben's death, there's more there than I could fit / would fit here but we'll see.


End file.
